


Nothing Beside Remains

by snapeplissken



Series: ReKinktober 2020 [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Albert Wesker Lives, Anal Sex, Kinktober, M/M, Nivanfield, Other, Porn, RE6, REKinktober, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26872783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapeplissken/pseuds/snapeplissken
Summary: Chris and Piers spend some much needed time together between missions in Edonia. Unbeknownst to them, they are being watched.
Relationships: Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield
Series: ReKinktober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953310
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	Nothing Beside Remains

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking this out. Today's prompt was voyeurism, something I hadn't actually written before. Again, these prompts are unbetaed and unedited, so I apologise for any mistakes.

He grunted to himself, tossing the syringe in the rubbish bin on the floor. It was getting progressively more difficult to stay a ghost, a memory, and obtain the resources he required to keep up his work… And his necessary injections.

As the chemicals worked his way through his system, he noticed one of the monitors had the alert pop up. Hmm. Edonia. Wong’s location, and also _his._

Chris Redfield. 

Albert sat at the desk and clicked through; yes, Miss Wong had run into some difficulty, and the Radames woman was certainly proving their current project was going to be incredibly promising. He opened the surveillance feeds. 

Edonia was never a place he wanted to visit, and that was before B.O.W. hit the market. Its people were desperate, the climate miserable for two thirds of the year, and the food was nothing to boast about. He had managed to avoid doing any business there thus far, and he hoped to keep it that way.

The views of the BSAA outposts had some flurry of activity, and he clicked across, checking the sectors and bringing up reports to pair with them. He watched as his former pointman, tailed by an attentive subordinate, assessed and coordinated their objectives. 

Wesker crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. Chris looked… Well. Haggard. Tired. 

But that spark was still there. That fire that drew Wesker's attention like a moth to flame. For better or worse.

Wesker had long considered Chris one of the best investments he had ever made. One of, if not the, best men he ever had. And he had been more than a thorn in his side ever since the mansion incident. Most severely in Kijuju, after which Wesker had stayed hidden; letting the world think he was dead. He would never voice out loud that he was still physically and financially recovering from that interaction.

His respect for Chris’ tenacity and determination, among other less appropriate topics, were probably Wesker’s most guarded secrets. And it was that draw, that pull, that made Wesker look twice at the screen. 

Chris and his subordinate…

Wesker drummed his fingers against his desk. Yes. Those open glances, the hovering nearness. 

It was like looking in a mirror, or through a window into the past.

It was startling to see, and more than odd, how the subordinate so much resembled the young hot-headed hotshot that he had recruited for S.T. A.R.S. all those years ago. He wondered briefly if Chris saw the pattern, even if Redfield was the captain now. 

A thrill took over the blonde. 

Within two days it had become more than a habit to check in on them. He learned all he could about Piers Nivans, a prospective soldier that he never would have batted an eye at. One could say he was obsessed with the pair. He paid a handsome sum to have the base infiltrated and more video feeds in a very specific squadron’s area.

He would watch as they cast sidelong glances at each other, how they brushed fingers while eating breakfast in the mess hall. How Chris cried in his bunker at night. As they quickly clasped hands before leaving the base. A quick but heated kiss upon Chris returning, dirtied and bruised from a mission. 

His heart sped at the sight. 

And then he got more.

Albert took his injection, and already was watching the feed. 

Chris strode out of the showers in just a towel. That was enough to get Wesker’s dick interested. Chris was a delicious treat to look at in clothes, but wet and glistening and barely covered he was a work of art.

But then Piers entered the hallway, saw his captain, and sprinted straightaway for _Chris’_ room, beating his captain there by minutes. 

_Ah._

Wesker went completely hard.

He exhaled slowly through his nose as Chris approached his bunker door, feeling the tension mount. The air in his hidden office in yet another secret, underground, forgotten lab felt suddenly too heavy, too thick. 

He had been extremely particular about the placement of the camera for Chris’ bunker: it was skillfully placed in the vent in the ceiling, offering a great view of the bed and space through to the entrance doorway. The benefit of this camera too was that it had audio recording. 

The sound was tinny, and rather muffled, but he could still _hear them_.

Chris was never an aggressive lover; he was responsive and confident, but it was Piers that initiated the contact. The younger man grabbed Chris and pulled him in for a hungry, not-too-soft kiss. Wesker nearly shivered when he heard Chris chuckle into the sniper’s mouth. The voyeur leaned closer to the screen, resting his elbows on the tabletop. 

From there it merely a matter of getting Piers out of his clothes. He was wearing standard combat fatigues, easily peeled off by Redfield. The young man hurriedly kicked off his boots as Chris undid his pants; sometime during the struggle Chris’s towel fell, exposing his clear erection. 

Wesker's breath was coming in more quickly. He slid one gloved hand down, under the desk, over his clothed cock. He pressed it firmly, enjoying his own heat and thickness.

His mouth watered as Chris raised his hands to cup his lover's face, guiding the now-naked soldier backwards to the bed. The S.T.A.R.S. veteran pushed open Piers’ thighs, setting himself between them. He watched as Nivans ran his fingers over perfect, sculpted pectorals, gripping handfuls of luscious biceps and sunkissed, golden skin. 

Chris broke the kiss, and Piers moaned at the loss, but then Redfield made his way down Piers’ torso, licking and kissing his way down to the heady erection bobbing up, begging for attention. Once there, he actually kissed the dripping head of it, and Wesker undid his pants. 

He heard the choked, half-strangled cry Piers tried to hold in as Chris licked up his cock, popping his mouth heavy onto the head. Fingers fisted into the close-cropped brunette hair. Wesker reached into his shorts and pulled his dick out. He tugged himself once, firm and sure.

Chris was attentive, but clearly in a rush to get things moving. After a few moments mouthing Piers’ shaft he moved lower, dipping his tongue into the other's hole. Albert’s dick twitched in his grasp, and Piers squirmed delightfully, throwing his head back into the large pillow. The young man brought his fist up, biting onto it to try to silence his cries and Chris eagerly ate his ass out. In his dimly lit office, Wesker swirled the precum dripping from his own erection around the head it was leaking from. 

He wondered how Nivans tasted, how Chris felt when shoving his tongue into that tight heat, moaning into it. Wesker had a feeling he knew exactly what it was like.

After maybe another minute, Chris raised his head and reached under the bed, bringing up a bottle of lube. He hastily dipped two fingers in and easily slid them into the panting, wriggling mess below him. As the two fingers stretched and filled him, Nivans canted his hips up, fucking himself onto those strong, large fingers like an excited whore.

Chris murmured something Wesker couldn't quite catch, but Piers was nodding frantically and Chris was shifting position and then his fat cock was breaching the sniper and Wesker was pumping himself steadily while the two lovers put on a show they didn't know had a viewership.

Wesker knew how big Chris was. He knew the weight and thickness that had Nivans trembling and gasping and moaning for more. The little soldier had quite the set of lungs, and gently Chris put a large palm over the other's mouth to stifle his cries. He tenderly kissed his boyfriend’s forehead, and then began fucking into him. Gently, at first. Wesker matched Chris’ pace with his hand, jacking himself shamelessly to his favourite arch nemesis sodomizing his subordinate. 

It wasn't long before Chris was fucking earnestly, up on his knees, moving his hands down to hold Piers’ hips up. Piers greedily fucking upwards to meet him, face red and wanton, open mouth urging Redfield on. He looked so small getting absolutely ploughed by Chris, Wesker was actually quite taken with the whole picture they made. 

The sniper, Nivans, reached down and began jacking himself, quick, erratic pumps completely unaligned with the still steady, unrepentantly deep thrusts jolting his whole body. It wouldn't be long, Wesker thought. He was still pumping himself, enjoying the grip of soft leather on his shaft, bucking into the friction now that he was getting closer.

At this angle, he couldn't quite see Chris’s face, but he saw those perfect shoulders tighten and that blessed spine arch back and he knew Chris was going to cum, going to fill his boyfriend full of him and his own muscles tensed in anticipation. 

Piers came first, his spunk shooting up across his own chest, his back bowing and mouth open into the prettiest oh shape. Chris followed him, his hands spreading those narrow hips so wide, his own hips rolling into a jarring stop and pausing, shoulders slumping and sweat rolling down his back. Wesker came last, spending his seed on his gloves and pants, breathing heavily alone in the dark room.

He watched as Nivans reached for his partner, pulling Chris down on top of him and kissing him sweetly over and over again. Something in him halted at the sentimentality. He roughly cleaned himself up, wiping his mess up and tucking himself back into his clothes. He glanced again at the feed. Chris was gently petting Nivan’s hair, the two laying down still nude, still sticky. 

He looked happy.

Wesker brought up the reports for the day, dragging his attention away from the post coital bliss of the couple. He skimmed through the reports, then froze. 

He read the page. Then read it again. 

Snarling, the tyrant rose to stand, the chair crashing to the floor behind him. He grabbed a suitcase and filled it with syringes and bottles of his injections. 

He was going to Edonia. 

He had to find his son, Jake. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
